I'm down for discussing relationships, but i think it's a safe bet that my character isn't very well liked among most of the other inmates.
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unending foolery
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i like to rp. that's really all there is to say.
Most Recent Posts
Idts. I was just waiting to give everyone a chance to post first, but I think I'll have another one up later today.
Meryn flinched back when the man slapped her hand away, and just for a moment she was a child on the streets of Enn again, cowering away from another beating.
But then her eyes narrowed and she was just pissed instead. She'd been trying to help and this guy was shouting at her? Her frustration built when he demanded she speak and she reared her arm back to just chuck the damned rag at him, let him clean himself up.
But then a bolt shot through the air, embedding itself in the roof next to Meryn's hand. She jumped away from it, stunned. She looked up to see the man in an equal state of shock and –
The fairy was an unmoving thing on his leg. It'd been shot.
Meryn hadn't even fully registered what was happening when the man surged forward, grabbing her and using his weight to press her into the roof. Apparently this was an attempt to… protect her? By laying flat out in the open??? Meryn struggled under him, trying to free herself. She finally managed to slip a hand loose and used it to wrench herself out from under him. Scrambling to grab Spook's mask she snatched it (and, as an afterthought, the crumpled up letter) up and dashed behind a chimney, still spouting black clouds of smoke. She grabbed the man's wrist as she passed him, trying to pull him with her and hoping he still had the fairy, until they were both out of sight, and hopefully out of range of the archer.
Frantic confusion wrapped around her as she tried to figure out who was shooting at them and why but the adrenalin pumping through her made it impossible to concentrate. In a flash of inspiration, Meryn dropped the letter in her bag and jammed the mask on her face. She was careful to stay below the wall as she looked in the general direction the bolt had come from, trying to find their assailant.
There. Through the wall she saw a far-away twist and turn of dreams, dark and dangerous. A tremor of fear reverberated through her body. Then there was a glowing warmth against her chest.
North, came a whisper like a breeze through her mind. There was urgency to it, a pressure that demanded attention. North. She didn't understand how or why, but she knew she needed to follow the instruction.
Meryn looked up, searching for the sun. It'd already begun to dip below the horizon, painting the sky a fiery crimson to her left, and stains of deep blue to her right. North was directly in front of her, then. But… she'd have to get out of the city first. Would they have to go all the way back towards the gate, where the mob had been? Her eyes found the man, her unlikely companion through all of this. Would he know any other exits? Would he be sober enough to remember them?
She looked back towards the chimney, seeing the attacker's dreams through it again. They had to go, to keep moving behind cover before they got skewered. The buildings of Cogswall, though rusted and grimy, were at least packed closely together with flat roofs. Hopefully the man would be able to jump over them, even with his shredded ankle.
On the next roof over, in the direction of the clocktower, there was another structure to hide behind, some sort of bizarre… sculpture? Meryn had no idea. But it was tall, wide, and solid looking, meaning it was useful even if it was ugly. Meryn tugged on the man's wrist to get his attention and pointed to it. She glanced through the chimney again and back at Ronken. Not letting go, she got ready to make a dash for the next roof.
But then her eyes narrowed and she was just pissed instead. She'd been trying to help and this guy was shouting at her? Her frustration built when he demanded she speak and she reared her arm back to just chuck the damned rag at him, let him clean himself up.
But then a bolt shot through the air, embedding itself in the roof next to Meryn's hand. She jumped away from it, stunned. She looked up to see the man in an equal state of shock and –
The fairy was an unmoving thing on his leg. It'd been shot.
Meryn hadn't even fully registered what was happening when the man surged forward, grabbing her and using his weight to press her into the roof. Apparently this was an attempt to… protect her? By laying flat out in the open??? Meryn struggled under him, trying to free herself. She finally managed to slip a hand loose and used it to wrench herself out from under him. Scrambling to grab Spook's mask she snatched it (and, as an afterthought, the crumpled up letter) up and dashed behind a chimney, still spouting black clouds of smoke. She grabbed the man's wrist as she passed him, trying to pull him with her and hoping he still had the fairy, until they were both out of sight, and hopefully out of range of the archer.
Frantic confusion wrapped around her as she tried to figure out who was shooting at them and why but the adrenalin pumping through her made it impossible to concentrate. In a flash of inspiration, Meryn dropped the letter in her bag and jammed the mask on her face. She was careful to stay below the wall as she looked in the general direction the bolt had come from, trying to find their assailant.
There. Through the wall she saw a far-away twist and turn of dreams, dark and dangerous. A tremor of fear reverberated through her body. Then there was a glowing warmth against her chest.
North, came a whisper like a breeze through her mind. There was urgency to it, a pressure that demanded attention. North. She didn't understand how or why, but she knew she needed to follow the instruction.
Meryn looked up, searching for the sun. It'd already begun to dip below the horizon, painting the sky a fiery crimson to her left, and stains of deep blue to her right. North was directly in front of her, then. But… she'd have to get out of the city first. Would they have to go all the way back towards the gate, where the mob had been? Her eyes found the man, her unlikely companion through all of this. Would he know any other exits? Would he be sober enough to remember them?
She looked back towards the chimney, seeing the attacker's dreams through it again. They had to go, to keep moving behind cover before they got skewered. The buildings of Cogswall, though rusted and grimy, were at least packed closely together with flat roofs. Hopefully the man would be able to jump over them, even with his shredded ankle.
On the next roof over, in the direction of the clocktower, there was another structure to hide behind, some sort of bizarre… sculpture? Meryn had no idea. But it was tall, wide, and solid looking, meaning it was useful even if it was ugly. Meryn tugged on the man's wrist to get his attention and pointed to it. She glanced through the chimney again and back at Ronken. Not letting go, she got ready to make a dash for the next roof.
why do i keep on making a bloody mess of my characters? who the hell knows. anyway, i'm free today, so if you get another post in before the day is up then so will i~ tomorrow's a little iffy-er tho.
Black Jack leapt at Trick – only for her to teleport away. Like hell she was letting these people touch her. Time to be annoying and teleport spam. In a flash, her katana was drawn and she was in the fray with the other two, flitting around them like a razor-edged spark. Keeping track of the two opponents – each decidedly deadly on their own – was a fast-paced challenge, to say the least. Duck a fist, teleport to a better angle, block a sword, teleport away, on and on, the three of them in an intricate, dangerous dance. Trick had to fight to keep from losing herself between Shirley's raging brutality and Black Jack's lightning quick aggression. She was tiring. She was built to hit hard and hit fast, but she didn't have much in the way of staying power. This needed to end. Soon. Or she wasn't going to walk away from it.
That was when her sword found its way into the middle of Black Jack's back. She'd learned not to stay in contact with these people for long, even after landing a blow, so as soon as the strike hit, she'd teleported away, four yards to the side. The three combatants were standing in a triangle as blood gushed from Black Jack's back. He treated it like a particularly nasty splinter. Trick cursed in her head at his goddamn healing factor. Her eyes narrowed as he taunted her and she spun her blade in her hand, flicking his blood off it.
Then Shirley swatted her away like a fly.
It was a testament to her exhaustion that she hadn't reacted fast enough to teleport away. Her sword flew out of her hand and landed on the ground with a clatter. Trick was shot like a bullet through the air, breath catching in her lungs. She barely had enough presence of mind to teleport herself forward in space, giving her more room to lose her momentum before she hit the wall. She tumbled to the ground, rolling and colliding with the wall with a dull thud instead of a bone-smashing shatter. Trick coughed as she got her bearings, pushing herself up on unsteady arms. Forcing herself to her feet, she spat blood that had begun pooling in her mouth. She heard Black Jack trying to direct Shirley at her because apparently it was her fault Black Jack had started a murderous manhunt resulting in countless lives of collateral damage. Because she'd lead his merry band of freakshow murderers to the city. Right.
God, she hated him.
But then the sound of cracking and splintering above her caught her attention. Trick looked up to see that apparently the rafter she'd used on Shirley had been an important one. It was now completely severed, hanging in bloody splinters. The ones around it were starting to bend and buckle, too. The ceiling was shuddering, dust beginning to fall. Trick's amber eyes widened as realization came to her.
The roof was going to come down on them.
Another sound drew her then to look at the far edge of the room, towards the entrance. Police officers, with body armor and glinting metal guns were starting to approach, sights aimed on the three of them. They had no idea what they were walking into.
"Shit," she breathed out. How had they gotten back here so fast? They couldn't handle Shirley and Black Jack no matter how well equipped they were, and now they were walking into a goddamn collapsing building.
Trick didn't think. She just teleported to the first one – who apparently already had his finger on the trigger. A shot echoed through the building as a bullet tore through the flesh of Trick's left shoulder. She cried out, fire igniting all down her arm, but she didn't stop – couldn't. Adrenalin forced her on, as she grabbed him and teleported forward to the next, and the next, down the line and away from the danger. She had one, two, three… twelve of them by the time they appeared outside of the warehouse, a jumbled tangle of limbs and guns.
Trick stumbled and fell out of the mass, barely catching herself against the wall of a building. Her hand tried to catch her, but she'd forgotten about the bullet wound and instead she cried out as her hand fell uselessly, her arm unable to support her, and she fell against the wall with her shoulder. She turned so her back pressed the wall instead, and slid down to a heap on the floor. She slumped, barely managing to stay sitting against the wall instead of just collapsing wholly to the ground. Her breath was coming out in shallow puffs, her energy completely sapped by the effort it'd taken to carry so many people. Her world was spinning. Her vision was going in and out, her whole body aching as she looked up to see the roof of the building falling in on itself. In the haze of her mind she wondered if Shirley and Black Jack had gotten out in time.
She hoped they hadn't.
That was when her sword found its way into the middle of Black Jack's back. She'd learned not to stay in contact with these people for long, even after landing a blow, so as soon as the strike hit, she'd teleported away, four yards to the side. The three combatants were standing in a triangle as blood gushed from Black Jack's back. He treated it like a particularly nasty splinter. Trick cursed in her head at his goddamn healing factor. Her eyes narrowed as he taunted her and she spun her blade in her hand, flicking his blood off it.
Then Shirley swatted her away like a fly.
It was a testament to her exhaustion that she hadn't reacted fast enough to teleport away. Her sword flew out of her hand and landed on the ground with a clatter. Trick was shot like a bullet through the air, breath catching in her lungs. She barely had enough presence of mind to teleport herself forward in space, giving her more room to lose her momentum before she hit the wall. She tumbled to the ground, rolling and colliding with the wall with a dull thud instead of a bone-smashing shatter. Trick coughed as she got her bearings, pushing herself up on unsteady arms. Forcing herself to her feet, she spat blood that had begun pooling in her mouth. She heard Black Jack trying to direct Shirley at her because apparently it was her fault Black Jack had started a murderous manhunt resulting in countless lives of collateral damage. Because she'd lead his merry band of freakshow murderers to the city. Right.
God, she hated him.
But then the sound of cracking and splintering above her caught her attention. Trick looked up to see that apparently the rafter she'd used on Shirley had been an important one. It was now completely severed, hanging in bloody splinters. The ones around it were starting to bend and buckle, too. The ceiling was shuddering, dust beginning to fall. Trick's amber eyes widened as realization came to her.
The roof was going to come down on them.
Another sound drew her then to look at the far edge of the room, towards the entrance. Police officers, with body armor and glinting metal guns were starting to approach, sights aimed on the three of them. They had no idea what they were walking into.
"Shit," she breathed out. How had they gotten back here so fast? They couldn't handle Shirley and Black Jack no matter how well equipped they were, and now they were walking into a goddamn collapsing building.
Trick didn't think. She just teleported to the first one – who apparently already had his finger on the trigger. A shot echoed through the building as a bullet tore through the flesh of Trick's left shoulder. She cried out, fire igniting all down her arm, but she didn't stop – couldn't. Adrenalin forced her on, as she grabbed him and teleported forward to the next, and the next, down the line and away from the danger. She had one, two, three… twelve of them by the time they appeared outside of the warehouse, a jumbled tangle of limbs and guns.
Trick stumbled and fell out of the mass, barely catching herself against the wall of a building. Her hand tried to catch her, but she'd forgotten about the bullet wound and instead she cried out as her hand fell uselessly, her arm unable to support her, and she fell against the wall with her shoulder. She turned so her back pressed the wall instead, and slid down to a heap on the floor. She slumped, barely managing to stay sitting against the wall instead of just collapsing wholly to the ground. Her breath was coming out in shallow puffs, her energy completely sapped by the effort it'd taken to carry so many people. Her world was spinning. Her vision was going in and out, her whole body aching as she looked up to see the roof of the building falling in on itself. In the haze of her mind she wondered if Shirley and Black Jack had gotten out in time.
She hoped they hadn't.
i was bored and procrastinating so i doodled the three runes arty's done so far. 1 is the rune on the staff, 2 is the one she drew in the dirt, 3 is the one on her foot wrap things.
(also goddamn triple post)
ok so a few things.
1) i absolutely got distracted – but don't worry guys, it was a worthy cause: pokemon.
2) i am totally basing nura the gryphon's actions off of my puppy who is great and cute and i love him but geeze can he be a pain sometimes
3) i got the most delicious idea for a rune, but it's way too advanced for artemis atm so i'm gonna save that sucker for a rainy day
1) i absolutely got distracted – but don't worry guys, it was a worthy cause: pokemon.
2) i am totally basing nura the gryphon's actions off of my puppy who is great and cute and i love him but geeze can he be a pain sometimes
3) i got the most delicious idea for a rune, but it's way too advanced for artemis atm so i'm gonna save that sucker for a rainy day
Artemis paused in her petting to look over her shoulder and see Oseely apparently having the time of his life. A small, almost shy smirk found her and she felt a bubble of pride at his approval. Nura bumped Artemis' hand with her beak, a small complaint that she was no longer being showered with affection. Artemis shot the gryphon an indulgent look and sat down as Oseely tried to control himself. She patted the ground next to her and Nura plopped herself down obediently. With one hand scratching the gryphon's neck, she looked down at the staff, finally losing its glow. Her own, ugly little rune sat in the middle. She glanced up when Oseely started his exposition, before turning back to the staff, her mouth pursing in thought.
That lightning trick had been a good show of power – but the power wasn't her's. Oseely's words washed over her, and she absorbed his explanations as she placed a finger in the dirt on the cave floor. She moved it, drawing a small, swooping rune. When she finished, she lifted her finger and placed her palm atop it. There was a tiny glow from under her hand and then dirt poofed up into the air in a cloud around her hand. Artemis frowned down at the dirt, raising a hand to wave the cloud away. Ok, so her runes on their own weren't that impressive. Not yet, at least. If she wanted a proper runic defense, she'd have to rely on the skills of others until she managed to build up her own, which meant… more petty theft. Artemis wasn't one to shy away from a little B&E, but the people she stole from usually didn't have the ability to fry her on sight. Of course, there were probably other ways to take care of herself. But having something reliable wouldn't hurt.
(The idea of stealing from the Witch again made her hesitate though. The first person that tried to help her, and Artemis had run, a disappointment once again.)
She looked up when Oseely paused in his speech to see him looking in the distance, eyes slightly narrowed. Artemis raised an eyebrow and looked over her shoulder to try and spy whatever had him preoccupied. But before she could process more than the ever-present blackness of the night, Oseely had pulled his attention back, apparently dismissing whatever it was. She pulled her eyebrows together a bit in suspicion, glancing over her shoulder one last time. Oseely went into an explanation about the Kith and Pirates.
Artemis, not quite relaxed, but deciding to let whatever it was go, looked down at her feet, still stuffed in the Witch's heavy boots. Reckley had said she'd need to be barefoot to ride Nura. That was probably well enough – the boots technically fit her, but they weren't quite the right size. It wouldn't be long before blisters formed if she tried running through the forest in these things. And so, she yanked them off, letting them clatter to the cave floor. Nura's head shot up at the sound, and Artemis scratched at her feathers until she coaxed the gryphon to lay down again.
Artemis looked down at her bare feet in thought. Then she lifted her hands to untie the rust-colored scarf around her neck (one more layer lost to the island). She shook it clean of the ash and charred branches that had been caught in it when she'd crash-landed into the ground. A rip sounded through the cave over Oseely's voice as she tore it into two long strips and laid them side by side on the ground. She listened to the Lord of Flame and looked around for some sort of drawing implement. Artemis ran a hand through her hair as she looked around. Her eyes found a charred-black twig that'd fallen from her scarf and she picked it up to draw two identical, almost star-like runes on each strip. Then she took one and began wrapping it around the ball of her left foot, stringing it once through the crook between her big toe and the next one over to secure it in place, and then did one more wrap around the sole of her foot before tying it off at the top. She did the same with the other strip around her right foot. When she finished, she pushed herself to her feet, and gave a few experimental stomps – which landed in complete silence. Nura jolted up to a sitting position, alert at the action. Artemis gave a satisfied smirk. These would certainly help with sneaking around. She'd have to find some more permanent way to mark them, like burning or dying them. The charcoal would only last so long before rubbing off, unless runic magic somehow kept them from degrading.
She looked up at Oseely just in time for him to tell her how she was a force to be respected with a wink. Artemis had to force herself not to look away and roll her eyes at that – an old habit. She'd been told since birth how much potential she had and opportunity if she just took advantage to it and lived up to it.
But instead she forced herself to reach down and grab her staff. Straightening up, she placed one end on the ground and leaned on it, looking up at Oseely. Nura tried very hard not to nip at the overgrown throwy-spinny toy, but couldn't help leaning over to it, with an open beak. Every few seconds she seemed to try and pull herself back, closing her beak a bit, but then the inescapable urge to play pushed her back towards the staff. Artemis let her be and thought about all Oseely had told her.
Ok, so the logistics about the Pirates and the Kith kind of made sense, but the masks just… grew? What? If they grew from the trees, and the trees were one, and the Lord of Wood was the one… did… did the Lord of Wood make the masks? Did he just make them for the heck of it, or because he wanted the Kith to use them? If he made them, he must've wanted someone to use them. Though of course, that was if he made them.
And then there was this one, the Lord of Flame, being ever so informative and helpful. Why was that? Because he was interested in her? Because he wanted to use her? Because she was an entertaining outsider in an otherwise closed environment he'd been living in for the past few centuries? She had made quite the show of herself, screaming and flailing into the earth like an ungainly comet. Maybe he was hoping for a second viewing.
"And how exactly do the Lords and Ladies work into all of this?"
That lightning trick had been a good show of power – but the power wasn't her's. Oseely's words washed over her, and she absorbed his explanations as she placed a finger in the dirt on the cave floor. She moved it, drawing a small, swooping rune. When she finished, she lifted her finger and placed her palm atop it. There was a tiny glow from under her hand and then dirt poofed up into the air in a cloud around her hand. Artemis frowned down at the dirt, raising a hand to wave the cloud away. Ok, so her runes on their own weren't that impressive. Not yet, at least. If she wanted a proper runic defense, she'd have to rely on the skills of others until she managed to build up her own, which meant… more petty theft. Artemis wasn't one to shy away from a little B&E, but the people she stole from usually didn't have the ability to fry her on sight. Of course, there were probably other ways to take care of herself. But having something reliable wouldn't hurt.
(The idea of stealing from the Witch again made her hesitate though. The first person that tried to help her, and Artemis had run, a disappointment once again.)
She looked up when Oseely paused in his speech to see him looking in the distance, eyes slightly narrowed. Artemis raised an eyebrow and looked over her shoulder to try and spy whatever had him preoccupied. But before she could process more than the ever-present blackness of the night, Oseely had pulled his attention back, apparently dismissing whatever it was. She pulled her eyebrows together a bit in suspicion, glancing over her shoulder one last time. Oseely went into an explanation about the Kith and Pirates.
Artemis, not quite relaxed, but deciding to let whatever it was go, looked down at her feet, still stuffed in the Witch's heavy boots. Reckley had said she'd need to be barefoot to ride Nura. That was probably well enough – the boots technically fit her, but they weren't quite the right size. It wouldn't be long before blisters formed if she tried running through the forest in these things. And so, she yanked them off, letting them clatter to the cave floor. Nura's head shot up at the sound, and Artemis scratched at her feathers until she coaxed the gryphon to lay down again.
Artemis looked down at her bare feet in thought. Then she lifted her hands to untie the rust-colored scarf around her neck (one more layer lost to the island). She shook it clean of the ash and charred branches that had been caught in it when she'd crash-landed into the ground. A rip sounded through the cave over Oseely's voice as she tore it into two long strips and laid them side by side on the ground. She listened to the Lord of Flame and looked around for some sort of drawing implement. Artemis ran a hand through her hair as she looked around. Her eyes found a charred-black twig that'd fallen from her scarf and she picked it up to draw two identical, almost star-like runes on each strip. Then she took one and began wrapping it around the ball of her left foot, stringing it once through the crook between her big toe and the next one over to secure it in place, and then did one more wrap around the sole of her foot before tying it off at the top. She did the same with the other strip around her right foot. When she finished, she pushed herself to her feet, and gave a few experimental stomps – which landed in complete silence. Nura jolted up to a sitting position, alert at the action. Artemis gave a satisfied smirk. These would certainly help with sneaking around. She'd have to find some more permanent way to mark them, like burning or dying them. The charcoal would only last so long before rubbing off, unless runic magic somehow kept them from degrading.
She looked up at Oseely just in time for him to tell her how she was a force to be respected with a wink. Artemis had to force herself not to look away and roll her eyes at that – an old habit. She'd been told since birth how much potential she had and opportunity if she just took advantage to it and lived up to it.
But instead she forced herself to reach down and grab her staff. Straightening up, she placed one end on the ground and leaned on it, looking up at Oseely. Nura tried very hard not to nip at the overgrown throwy-spinny toy, but couldn't help leaning over to it, with an open beak. Every few seconds she seemed to try and pull herself back, closing her beak a bit, but then the inescapable urge to play pushed her back towards the staff. Artemis let her be and thought about all Oseely had told her.
Ok, so the logistics about the Pirates and the Kith kind of made sense, but the masks just… grew? What? If they grew from the trees, and the trees were one, and the Lord of Wood was the one… did… did the Lord of Wood make the masks? Did he just make them for the heck of it, or because he wanted the Kith to use them? If he made them, he must've wanted someone to use them. Though of course, that was if he made them.
And then there was this one, the Lord of Flame, being ever so informative and helpful. Why was that? Because he was interested in her? Because he wanted to use her? Because she was an entertaining outsider in an otherwise closed environment he'd been living in for the past few centuries? She had made quite the show of herself, screaming and flailing into the earth like an ungainly comet. Maybe he was hoping for a second viewing.
"And how exactly do the Lords and Ladies work into all of this?"
working on a post now! sorry it took me so goddamn long OTL hopefully it'll be up within the hour. if i don't get distracted >.<
@HushedWhispers so sorry you're having a rough time! D: real life comes first, obviously, you take what time you need for yourself. before you go though, i do have one question? how does julia feel about grey with the whole 'a bastard is getting married off for political purposes before one of my true-born children'? just so i know if i ever need to use her as an npc? sorry i don't mean to add any more stress to you >.< don't worry about it if you don't have the opportunity to answer, i'm sure i can make an educated guess. just trying to make sure i do the character justice.
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